Child's Play
by Dan Sickles
Summary: Anne Boleyn's naughty behavior means trouble for her sister Mary - trouble she can't resist! A silly bit of very mild fem/slash, rated T just to be on the safe side. Please comment nicely!
1. Chapter 1

CHILD'S PLAY

 _Anne Boleyn's bratty behavior means trouble for her sister Mary - trouble she can't resist! I do not own these enchanting characters. Please comment nicely!_

"You didn't!" Mary Boleyn's big blue eyes were full of fear.

"I did." Dark and daring Anne Boleyn smirked at the look on her baby sister's face.

"But Queen Katherine will find out!"

"Not if you put it back for me, she won't. Do it now, while the old girl is asleep."

"But if she wakes up . . ."

"She won't wake up. Silly baby! Go on, get going. It's child's play." Anne handed Mary the tiny silver bottle, which both young ladies-in-waiting had been eyeing for days. Anne swore it was filled with perfume, something rare and costly from Arabia. But Mary insisted it was filled with water, Holy Water from the Well of St. Dunstan.

"Why should I put it back?" Mary whined.

Anne didn't answer with words. She raised the back of her hand instead. Her sweet baby sister flinched involuntarily.

Unlike noisy Anne, Mary understood how to walk and speak softly, to make her presence as quiet as a whisper. There was no reason she couldn't creep softly into the royal bedchamber while the queen was taking her afternoon nap. Katherine of Aragon was a large, heavy woman. She slept deeply and snored loudly. It was child's play, just like Anne said. Child's play . . .

"Who is there?" The queen's deep voice sounded horribly loud in the sleepy stillness of the bedchamber.

"Please, Majesty, it's only me!" Mary's voice was the squeak of a mouse.

"What are you doing? What have you got there?" Katherine of Aragon was like a cat, quick and graceful despite her bulk and all her years. She rolled off the bed and got her big paw down the front of Mary's dress, seizing the tiny silver bottle that the frightened girl had hastily concealed between her breasts.

"It was a mistake! I thought it was perfume, Your Majesty! I swear I thought it was perfume!"

Katherine frowned. "You are the good Boleyn girl. The sweet and quiet one. You did not take my Holy Water. It was the other girl, the one with the wild fire in her dark eyes. It was Anne!"

"No, Your Majesty, I swear! It was only me, Mary!" The pretty blonde with the big blue eyes readjusted the bodice of her dress. It was hard not to feel a little shaky. The queen's groping fingers had just brushed against her breasts, pinching her nipples in a way that brought back wicked memories of the French court.

The heavy, dark-haired queen looked deep into the frightened azure eyes of the golden-haired Boleyn girl. "You have always been afraid of your sister, is that it? She does bad things and you take the blame?"

Mary blushed. "Anne's not really a bad person," she said, feeling guilty. "It's just that she wants so much from life, and she must succeed at everything. Our father . . ."

The queen brushed aside her words. "I am interested only in you. You have served me for weeks. You did not really think the bottle was perfume, did you?"

Mary lowered her eyes. The queen was so religious and so uninterested in vain things like clothes and perfume . . . and handsome men. "No, Your Majesty," she whispered.

"Then how are you to repay me for the precious Holy Water you have taken?"

"I . . . I don't know, Your Majesty." Mary couldn't seem to think clearly. Her eyes dropped to the wooden crucifix that dangled between the Spanish queen's full breasts.

"Foolish girl." Katherine of Aragon seized Mary's slim white hand in a tight grip, pressing it firmly against her very impressive royal bosom. "It is child's play."

As her eyes closed and her lips met the queen's, Mary thought she heard the mocking laughter of her sister Anne.


	2. The Reluctant Pilgrim

_Chapter Two: The Reluctant Pilgrim_

"It's not funny!"

The pretty, dark-haired lady-in-waiting fell down laughing on her narrow bed. Her sweet, blue-eyed sister felt like stamping her foot in frustration.

"Anne! Anne! Stop laughing, I tell you! There's nothing funny about it. The queen was merciful and I feel grateful to her."

"Oh, Mary, sweet golden-haired Mary. You're such a beautiful simpleton." Anne Boleyn rolled over on her back, gasping for breath. Her cheeks were flushed and wet with tears. "So what was it like, making love to another woman?"

"It was . . . it was . . . it's none of your business what it was like!" Mary was hurt by her big sister's lack of feeling. Anne never said or did or felt the expected thing. Instead of being sorry that her baby sister had been forced to make love to Queen Katherine because of her own bad behavior, Anne was curious about what it was like. And not because she wanted to try it herself. Mary knew that Anne was just as boy-crazy as she was. But Anne was crazy in other ways too. She was crazy to learn the answer to every single riddle on earth. If her very own head were cut off, Anne would still be curious. She'd want to know how that felt too.

"Well, since you're standing here in Whitehall Palace and not lying in chains in the Tower of London, we can deduce that Queen Katherine wasn't too displeased with you."

"She wants me to go on a pilgrimage with her tomorrow morning," Mary said, her cheeks hot and her blue eyes fixed on the floor. "She wants me to visit St. Dunstan's Well."

"Well, that should be an enlightening experience." Anne rolled her eyes as if the whole idea of pilgrimages was too silly for words. Mary knew that the clever books her sister was always reading in her closet had put some very strange ideas into her head.

"There's nothing wrong with journeying to a holy place," Mary protested. "People have been doing it for centuries."

"Right, just like in The Canterbury Tales. Only it looks to me like our Queen Katherine is more like the lusty Wife of Bath than the Holy Prioress. At least where you're concerned, Mary dear."

"Huh?" Mary hadn't read Chaucer and didn't understand what Anne was talking about. But she knew trouble when she heard it. "Anne, one of these days you'll say the wrong thing when the wrong person is listening. Our queen knows that it was you who stole her flask of holy water, and she knows that you are the one who should be going on a pilgrimage to atone for what you did."

"Then why is she taking you along instead of me?" Anne looked like the cat who'd just lapped up all the cream. "Keep up the good work, baby sister. While you keep the queen distracted, I'll set about getting the king's attention."

Mary tossed and turned all night trying to figure some way out of her predicament. She couldn't refuse the queen's invitation, and tattling on her sister would be dishonorable. Mary hated Anne's schemes, but the whole family insisted that she was the clever one. Her ambitions were father's ambitions too. When she slept at last Mary dreamed she was warning Queen Katherine of danger, but in her dream the queen only laughed and kissed her, over and over.

There was no kissing when Mary presented herself before Queen Katherine in the morning. All the queen's ladies were dressed in black, and all were very old and stiff except for Mary. The queen allowed her youngest lady-in-waiting to ride beside her in the royal carriage, but she didn't say a word about the secret memory the two of them now shared.

For her own part, Mary wished with all her heart it had never happened. Shame and confusion washed over her every time she glanced at the majestic, dark-haired queen, whose firm and lush and very well rounded body was so unlike those of the lean and slender boys Mary had sported with in France. If only she could get that body out of her mind! The carriage ride seemed to go on forever, and to pass the time Mary closed her eyes and tried to summon up the memory of the first boy she had ever kissed. She wasn't sure of his name, but she felt certain his eyes had been green. Or blue. Was it green or blue? Then again, perhaps his eyes had been brown . . .

"Wake up, my child." Queen Katherine's voice was kind, but her hands were brisk. She shook Mary back and forth.

"Are we there yet?" Mary straightened up at once, dismayed to discover that she had been sleeping with her head on Katherine's shoulder. She must have been out for hours!

"We are here," Katherine replied, her round, heavy face serious and somber. "I see no Friar waiting to greet us. Out you go, Mary, and find this man. It is his job to guard the well and preserve its holy secrets."

Mary tumbled out of the carriage, grateful for the chance to stretch her legs. She was also grateful that the queen had done nothing and said nothing to bring back the memory of their stolen hours together in the royal bed. Perhaps it would never happen again. Perhaps they would never speak of it! Mary vowed that she would serve Katherine to the end of her days if only that shameful episode would be forgotten. Surely there would be nothing but peaceful days and calm at the royal court if only her own secret could be buried somewhere deep in the earth.

Mary was still thinking things over, and trying not to remember her own soft cries or the queen's warm lips on her bare breasts when all at once she stumbled across the friar's dead body lying beside St. Dunstan's Well.


	3. Witchcraft and Sorcery

_Chapter Three: Witchcraft and Sorcery_

"All right, girl. Tell it again, from the beginning. And let's hear the truth this time!"

"But Your Majesty, I've already told you everything!" Mary Boleyn felt like crying. The frowning monarch sitting on his throne looked so massive, his forearms bulging as if his mighty fist could smash her in two. Even with a platter of cold meats before him, Henry VIII looked menacing and cruel. It didn't help matters that Mary's own sister Anne was standing by his side.

"Put her in the Tower," Anne said nastily, whispering in the king's ear but doing it loud enough for Mary to hear. "Put her on bread and water till she tells the truth. My sweet baby sister will spill everything if you take away her food. Or better still keep her away from the boys for a few days. She can't live without boys!"

"That's a lie!" Mary cried, her big blue eyes swimming with tears. Anne was as crazy about boys as she was, but she couldn't say anything about that without ruining all her family's plans and hopes. And she couldn't change her story about the poor monk's body because she was telling the truth about what she'd seen!

"It is a lie," said a low and husky female voice with a slight foreign accent. Queen Katherine of Aragon had just glided into the throne room. The older woman moved gracefully, in spite of her bulky body and her long skirts. The moment she saw Mary in tears, kneeling before the throne, Katherine moved to her side.

"Your Majesty, Mistress Mary Boleyn is a loyal and dutiful lady in waiting. Her nature is truthful, but she has been through quite an ordeal. She was the first one to discover the body, and she ran for miles to get help. She must be very tired after her long day. Allow me to question her privately, in my own chambers. Her testimony will be much clearer after a good night's rest."

"Yes, yes, very well! Put the baby to bed." King Henry VIII scowled at the way his nosy old queen interfered in royal business. Already Katherine was helping Mary Boleyn to her feet, her arm around the girl's slim waist as they left the chamber.

"I wonder what those two are really up to," Anne Boleyn said, slanting a dark-eyed glance at the two departing women. It wasn't much of a surprise to see Queen Katherine making a fuss over her baby sister. When it came to winning sympathy from the grown-ups, Mary's big blue eyes and flowing tears always did the trick. But when Katherine put her arm around Mary's waist, and Mary rested her head on the royal shoulder, the two of them really looked more like sweethearts than anything else.

Anne scowled as the oaken door shut behind them.

"My damned Spanish wife has always been a slave to the church in Rome," Henry VIII was saying, as he pushed Anne aside to devour the remains of his dinner. With his eyes on the platter of meat he'd missed the way Katherine and Mary were behaving. "Now that one of her precious monks has been murdered, she'll probably be more religious than ever before!"

"She'll probably use my sweet, dimwitted sister as a pawn," Anne muttered. "She'll probably get Mary to change her testimony in order to spread lies about the way that monk was murdered!"

"But the girl said there was no sign of violence," Henry objected, wiping his greasy fingers on the gold-embroidered hem of Anne's French dress. He used the crude attempt at a cleanup as an excuse to start pawing at her tightly laced bodice as well.

"That's just the point," Anne snapped, slapping away the king's greedy, clutching fingers. "Mary is a beautiful girl, I'll admit, but she hasn't got the brains of a flea. She's always been weak, easily influenced and far too eager to please. Let Katherine show her the slightest favor or dangle a few trinkets before her eyes, and poor Mary will melt like sugar in hot tea. Your Majesty's cunning queen will twist my brainless baby sister's testimony to make it seem that the poor monk was murdered by the religious reformers."

"Well, isn't that what happened?" Henry asked. "My man Cromwell must have heard that there was gold buried at St. Dunstan's. He must have used poison or strangled the old man. The only question is whether or not he found the gold!"

"The only question is whether everyone involved isn't jumping to conclusions!" Anne's dark eyes were snapping with impatience. She didn't mind the king lusting after her body, but she hated when he wasn't clever enough to appreciate her mind. "What if my sweet, dimwitted sister is telling the truth? If the body was truly unmarked, and there were no footprints nearby, that only points to one thing. It points to witchcraft and sorcery!"

"Those are two things, aren't they?" Henry gave a crude guffaw as he loosened the strings of Anne's tightly-laced bodice.

"Don't you understand, Henry?" This time Anne made no attempt to push away the pawing hands. Instead she merely smiled, and drew the king's hungry mouth down towards her bosom. "The monk of St. Dunstan's wasn't murdered at all!"


	4. It Is Decided

_Chapter Four: It Is Decided_

Scurrying through the shadows in the dim corridors of the palace, Anne Boleyn swiftly made her way to the royal bedchamber where Queen Katherine slept each night. She had to talk to Mary, had to tell her how well things were going with the king. But when the slim, dark-haired girl tried to open the massive oaken doors, she found the bedchamber was locked!

Unlike her gentle, sensitive sister, Anne was stubborn and very determined. She exited the corridors and went outside, snaking through shrubs and peeping into one of the narrow windows set high up in the royal bedchamber.

"Huh!" Looking down into the room from outside, Anne could see that the queen had already left her bedchamber. But the huge bed was still occupied by Anne's younger sister Mary. Mary didn't see Anne at the window or hear her tapping on the glass. The younger Boleyn girl was oblivious, her golden head buried in the soft pillows. Anne tapped louder, a knowing smirk on her sharp features.

"Huh?" Mary looked up in bewilderment, her blue eyes bleary from sleep. It took a few moments to realize where the tapping was coming from. When she saw Anne gesturing at the window the gentle blonde had a sinking feeling. Nevertheless she rose from the huge canopy bed, found one of the queen's velvet gowns, (which was really much too large for her) and scurried to unlock the massive oak door. The stone floor felt very cold under her bare feet.

"Good morning, sister! Oh, sorry, it's afternoon." Anne brushed by Mary as if she owned the bedchamber, and the palace. She acts like a queen already, Mary thought ruefully.

"Good morning, Anne," the younger Boleyn girl said. She watched nervously as her big sister Anne perched her trim little figure saucily on the edge of the unmade bed. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"I've already ate, thanks." Anne gave Mary a mocking smile. "Don't you want to hear what I've been up to with the king?"

"You slept with him, I suppose," Mary said, sitting down beside her sister with a heavy sigh. She hated the way Anne just used other people as a way of getting what she wanted. Mary was still struggling to understand her own tender and strangely urgent feelings for Katherine, but she knew she would never use the queen just for riches and selfish gain.

"No, you little fool, I didn't sleep with him. Sleep with someone powerful before getting something in return? That's something _you_ would do, my sweet empty-headed sister. I'm not going to sleep with Henry until he makes me a queen!"

"But Anne, you've only just come to court! And Henry has a queen already." Mary frowned as she reached for a tray of soft, warm bread and butter. How typical of Katherine to make sure her maid was provided for even while she slept. "Katherine is a true queen," Mary murmured, talking with her mouth full. "She's generous, strong, and dignified. The kind of woman everyone likes and respects."

"Everyone but the king," Anne cut in, sounding very snarky. She took a thick slice of bread for herself, forgetting that she'd already eaten. "Henry is bored with Katherine, bored with goodness and kindness and responsibility. He wants someone who's wild, out of control, reckless. So that's who I'm going to be."

"But what if he becomes wild and reckless?" Mary asked. "Who will protect you from him if you get him going and he loses control?"

Anne shrugged. "I can protect myself. All I need is to have him to myself for a few weeks, so I can tempt him to go further and further without actually giving him what I want. Henry is used to getting what he wants in a hurry. Making him wait will make him want me more and more. The more frustrated he gets the easier he'll be to manipulate!"

Mary scowled. "I think that's a terrible way to talk about our king. And I'm _not_ going to help you if Kath . . . I mean if the queen is going to suffer."

"You're helping me right now," Anne countered. "The queen is taking a long journey to Ludlow Castle, to see her daughter. It is decided."

"Did you suggest that to the king?" Mary felt very bitter, knowing that her own thoughts and desires did not matter. Anne was older, and Anne would stop at nothing to get her way.

"No, my beautiful dimwit sister. Katherine suggested it. I'm only here to help you pack."

"To help me pack?" Mary gazed at Anne with wide blue eyes.

"Yes, you dolt! Pray, look not so astonished. This morning while you were still asleep in the queen's bed, clearly worn out from making love to her for hours and hours, Katherine came marching into the throne room to see the king. She was very cold and stiff, and she took no notice of me at all. But her icy manner thawed a little when she mentioned you. She said she was going to need _comfort_ on the long journey." Anne's dark brown eyes twinkled with malicious amusement. "Now what do you suppose she meant by that?"

"I don't know." Mary put down the half-eaten crust of bread, feeling a little sick to her stomach. Her duty was to warn the queen, to prevent her from leaving the royal court at this crucial time. Yet even as she tried to rouse herself to do her duty, Mary found herself wondering what it would be like to travel with Queen Katherine in splendor to a far-off castle.

It all sounded very romantic.


	5. Heart to Heart

_Chapter Five: Heart to Heart_

Mary Boleyn liked boys. She liked joking with them, and flirting with them, and dancing with them, and just being around them. Best of all she liked kissing them and having their arms wrapped around her good and tight!

So it was very confusing when Queen Katherine of Aragon summoned the young lady-in-waiting to her bed, and began making lover to her just like a man with a brand new sweetheart. Mary didn't understand how another woman's hands and lips could get her so excited. She just wanted more and more. It was hard to think about anything else, even in the daytime when the two of them were traveling together in the queen's royal carriage.

"Your Majesty, I'm not sure this trip is a good idea," Mary said, forcing herself to sit up straight and look the queen in the eye. The two of them had been riding along for quite some time, with Katherine watching the scenery while Mary daydreamed. Her dreams were about boys, but her head had been resting on the older woman's shoulder.

"You're not growing weary of the long road already, are you?" Queen Katherine's well-lined face was stern and serious as she inspected Mary Boleyn's sleepy blue eyes and flushed features. "If you wish to serve me, little one, you must embrace suffering and sacrifice. Those are the things that bring us closer to God."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Mary felt her color deepening. The queen never seemed to need rest or food or amusement like other people. Yet it was her very strength that blinded her to the weakness of others, even her husband the king. "Your Majesty, I am your lady in waiting, and I will travel with you for as long as you desire. But while we are doing our sacred duty, and getting closer to God, others are getting closer to His Majesty the King."

"What do you mean?" The queen's ebony eyes shot fiery sparks.

"My sister Anne . . . she wants . . . I mean she thinks that she . . ."

"The slut dreams that she can take my place?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Mary slumped in her cushioned seat. She felt ready to collapse into a puddle of tears and die from shame. Yet at the same time there was a huge weight off her shoulders.

"I know of this already," Queen Katherine said. "The king may bed other women, and exhaust his body and put his soul in danger. But in the eyes of God I am his one true queen. He can never have another while I am alive."

"No, Your Majesty." Mary felt a surge of admiration for the plain, heavyset, yet regal and strangely attractive older woman. Katherine had no fear of losing Henry, and no fear of Anne's ambitious schemes. She had too much dignity. Yet at the same time, Mary sensed she was deceiving herself. How could she warn Katherine that Anne was not like all the rest?

"You must not let this worry you," Katherine said, reading the worried look on Mary's youthful features. "Thinking of me is good, but you must remember that I am older than you and wiser."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Mary couldn't help smiling at the queen. "I don't think you're so very old, not as old as you think you are anyway. You're still a very beautiful woman!"

"Hush, girl. Such sinful talk is foolish, especially to your elders." Queen Katherine tried to scowl, but Mary noticed that the older woman looked quite pleased with herself as the two of them settled back in their seats once more. This time Katherine arranged things so that Mary could curl up right against her, with her golden head pillowed on Katherine's firm bosom instead of resting against her shoulder. It was quite warm, and very comfortable. Yet even as her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep in the queen's embrace, worn out by all the excitement and the tearful drama of their heart to heart talk, Mary Boleyn could hear her sister Anne's mocking laughter.


	6. Witches and Sin

_Chapter Six: Witches and Sin_

From Mary Boleyn's point of view, the only trouble with boys was that she could never get enough of them! But at Ludlow Castle things were different. Not only were there plenty of boys, young and good looking and full of all sorts of mischief, but with her bold and dark-eyed sister Anne back in Whitehall there were no other young women around. For once Mary had no competition at all.

"Race you back to the castle!" That was Mary, challenging all three Ludlow boys at once to jump up and run from the apple orchard back to the castle. With Anne not around she felt much more confident, and she enjoyed playing the bold part her sister usually played at home.

"Not so fast, my lovely!" The tallest of the boys was Alfred, the one with the curly dark hair and the wide grin. He caught up with Mary first, snagging her ankle so she fell face-down on the grass.

"No fair tickling!" Tristan the middle boy was a redhead, and he was serious and curious about the royal court. But when he started tickling he had the same wicked grin as his brother.

"Mary's got blue silk stockings on!" Samuel was the youngest, the baby with the blonde hair. When he put his hands under Mary's dress he really didn't understand how naughty he was being.

"Stop it! Stop it at once, you naughty rogues! Stop it, stop it . . ." Mary was shrieking with laughter, knowing it was all in fun. Each of the three Ludlow boys had privately confided to her that they were still virgins and not quite sure how to please a young lady on their wedding night. Mary had promised to give them all a few pointers when they met up later for ghost stories at midnight.

"Lady Mary, Her Majesty would like to see you. Lady Mary!"

"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" Mary scrambled to her feet, her cheeks burning under the gaze of the strict old lady in waiting. Queen Katherine's Spanish companions had no sense of humor at all!

"Run along, old girl," Alfred said, politely handing her back her bonnet and at the same time giving her a sly pinch on the bottom.

"Your Majesty?" Mary peeked into the darkened bedroom, expecting to see Queen Katherine down on her knees praying. The heavyset older woman spent virtually all her spare time in prayer, except when she was giving bread to the poor or lecturing young women on how to resist temptation.

"I have just heard some very disturbing news." The Spanish queen came out of the shadows, holding a letter in her hand. "Your sister Anne was accused of witchcraft by a very respectable man of God, and just a few days later the holy man was found dead. Once again it appears that the victim was crushed from above, as though some gigantic creature had grabbed him in his arms and smashed him against the rocks again and again."

"Oh, no!" Mary pressed her small fist against her trembling mouth, her big blue eyes filling up with tears. "Anne couldn't . . . she would never . . . I know these stories must be false!"

"Silence!" The queen's slap echoed in the stuffy bedchamber. A large red mark instantly appeared on Mary's cheek. "Do you suggest a holy priest of the church is deliberately lying?"

"No, Your Majesty!" Mary stepped back, sobbing, holding her cheek. "But I just feel . . . I feel like Anne wouldn't stoop to using witchcraft to get her way. She likes to face people head on fight in the open. Beating someone in secret wouldn't satisfy her at all!"

"Then how are we to discover the real villain?" Queen Katherine asked, sitting down on her massive royal bed.

"I don't know," Mary sniffled, her hand still pressed to her cheek. "Most witches work in secret, after dark."

"If you wish to save your sister, you and I must work together to expose the devil and drive him out," Katherine said. "Come here and let me look at your cheek."

"I'm fine, Your Majesty." Mary hung back, a bit frightened of further punishment.

"I will not hurt you . . . so long as you obey me." Katherine gave the beautiful young lady in waiting an intense, searching look. "You seem to be somewhat flushed, my child."

"I was out in the sun most of the morning, Your Majesty." Mary fidgeted a little as she sat down on the bed, nervously aware of the queen's nearness. She kept her eyes on her hands, folded in her lap.

"Yes, you made quite a spectacle of yourself with those three young men." Katherine's husky voice was cutting and sarcastic, but her hand on Mary's cheek felt oddly gentle, even tender. "Ah, already the mark of my hand is fading from your cheek. It would be a pity to ruin looks like yours. Still, such good looks can be a deadly snare for the weak. Your great beauty will be your ruin, sweet child . . . unless you learn to triumph over temptation."

"I can resist temptation," Mary shyly, slanting a demure sidelong look at the queen from under her long, golden lashes. "I can resist the false flattery of men and the puppy-like paws of the boys. But when you and I . . . I mean, when Your Majesty is pleased to . . . to take notice of me . . . I find I am quite unable to resist!"

"I am your mistress," Queen Katherine informed her, gently removing Mary's elaborate house-shaped head covering so that her soft, shimmering blonde hair tumbled down in shimmering waves. "It is only right that my kind words and gentle touch should bring you pleasure. Do I not please you, my sweet?"

"Oh, yes." Mary closed her eyes, baffled by the way her feeling for boys seemed to spark so unexpectedly to life when the queen kissed her lips. Katherine's body was so different from a lean and muscular young man's form. Everything was softer, rounder. Heavier. Yet the sagging heaviness of Katherine's mature breasts seemed to make Mary want to touch them, taste them, suck them, until she could hardly think of anything else.

"There, there," Katherine soothed, after Mary's release came on in a sudden spasm so intense that she nearly passed out from the pleasure. The two of them were lying naked on the bed, but Mary had no memory of removing her own garments. Somehow the older woman had undressed her and brought her to climax with just a few knowing touches and kisses, while Mary herself could do nothing but moan and sigh and suckle in her arms like a babe. "How do you feel, now that we have made up our foolish quarrel?"

"Good, I guess," Mary murmured, with her eyes shut. "Sleepy."

"Yes, you should rest now," Queen Katherine answered. "The two of us will soon have much work to do. We will destroy the devil and put an end to his foul murders, and we will cast out all his wicked witches forever!"

Were witches and demons the only explanation for all the evil in the world? Mary felt there was something terribly important she needed to tell Queen Katherine of Aragon, about witches and sin. But just as the right words came to her she fell into a deep sleep.


	7. Smiling Back

_Chapter Seven: Smiling Back_

"It was you, Sir Thomas More! You ordered the monks to dig into the marsh by St. Dunstan's Well. You found the ancient bones, and unearthed the furry ice-age beasts from before time. You brought the curse of the giant ice elephants upon England!"

"No! No!" The hawk-faced clergyman with the gold chain around his neck reeled back, surrounded on all sides by accusing faces. "I know nothing of ancient beasts . . . I never read the parchments that were buried in the marsh! Your Majesty, I beg you, silence the golden-haired girl who cannot keep away from boys!"

BRRRAAAAUUUGGH!

The trumpeting of the beasts as they trampled the false chancellor filled the air. The big, furry ice elephants came thundering from all sides, crushing the enemies of the Boleyn family. Suddenly Mary Boleyn was riding on top of one of the elephants, and everyone was cheering . . .

"Wake up, my child. Wake up!"

"Huh?" Mary Boleyn opened her eyes, looking up into the stern and frowning face of the Queen of England. Unexpectedly, Katherine of Aragon kissed her forehead and smiled.

"I would gladly let you sleep, my child. You have pleased me very much and truly earned a good rest in my bed. But as queen I must go and hear the complaints of the local nobility."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Mary sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She blushed to remember how the queen had worn her out the night before, pretending that Mary was a boy and even encouraging her to put on a page's borrowed breeches and boots. The games they played were exciting, but exhausting too.

Queen Katherine gazed at the girl in her bed, a soft look on her worn and kindly features. "Better you should be with me, Mary Boleyn, than getting into mischief with the local boys! How will you make an aristocratic marriage if you have the reputation of a girl who sleeps with any boy who looks her way?"

"I'm not like that, not really," Mary said, looking down at the bed sheets. "I've changed, Your Majesty, really I have."

"I know," Queen Katherine said quietly. "I've changed too."

As she sat in the stuffy council chamber with the queen, listening to the droning voices of the nobility and trying to look very serious and solemn, Mary found herself thinking back on the dream she'd had that morning. What on earth did it mean? What sort of elephants had thick fur all over, and how on earth did they come to be trampling down Sir Thomas More?

Most of the nobles in the chamber were old men, wrinkled and gray. They all seemed to want something from Queen Katherine, more money or more land or whatever. They paid no attention to Mary sitting quietly by the queen's side. But there was one young man with fresh, rosy cheeks and merry brown eyes who kept looking her way and smiling. Mary tried to ignore him at first, but as the afternoon dragged on and on it was hard to keep her mind on the procedures. The most attractive man in the room was looking at her every time she looked his way. Every time she turned around he was smiling at her.

Mary felt like a fool, looking back at him. It was only that she couldn't help it. And when he smiled, she couldn't help smiling back.


End file.
